


I Ache for Your Slimy Touch

by Hootscowl



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: 8.2.5 Spoilers, Comedy, F/F, Smut, dear sylvaina fandom you guys are lovely and i'm sorry for this fic you don't deserve, every day we stray further from god's light, gillvanas murloc pet, human/murloc intercourse, sylvaina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 06:37:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20869820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hootscowl/pseuds/Hootscowl
Summary: A dark temptation, a forbidden lust, and a love that crosses boundaries.Jaina/Gillvanas





	I Ache for Your Slimy Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Blizzcon 2019 in-game rewards include a “Gillvanas” murloc pet. If you haven’t seen it yet, gird your loins and google that abomination.
> 
> I coughed up blood and various organ tissue, and somewhere in the entrails there was a comedy-smut fic about Jaina and this new “Gillvanas”. Please take this fic with a grain of salt, and possibly alcohol. Pray for me.

* * *

The Ghostlands were aptly named. As soon as the flash of light from Jaina’s portal vanished, gloom leaked back in like water flowing into a breach.

Above the twisted gray trees of the dead forest rose a tower. One of the few structures remaining from what was once a proud estate teeming with sunshine and life.

Jaina knew Windrunner Spire well. They used to meet here, hidden from the eyes of the world. All those secret trysts, whispers of love, gurgles of passion, gentle fins stroking Jaina’s hair.

“I am not here to fall back into her arms,” Jaina reminded herself firmly.

Oh but what strong little arms they were, so slimy and moist, capped by web-finned hands that knew all the tender spots to coax moans of pleasure from Jaina and...

“No! I will _ not _ get distracted! I came here for an answer, that’s all.”

She flipped her braid over her shoulder and marched up the hill to the Spire. The gravel crunched under her feet, its abrasive grind the only sound breaking the air. No birds, no insects, no signs of life whatsoever.

The gloomy, worn-out buildings and life-drained gray trees that bent unnaturally under the weight of their own forced death, all seemed to mock Jaina.

This is what it all comes to in the end, the dead structures chanted silently. Life dies, love fades. In the end, death claims us all.

“I have to find out if it was real,” Jaina said. Talking to herself just to chase away the silence of this abandoned land that screamed louder than any words ever could. “If she truly meant what she said. Was she lying outside Orgrimmar? Or was it me she lied to all these years?”

Foolish, to risk her life for such an answer. But Jaina could not just let the deepest love of her heart fly off into the sunset without explanation.

There were many places her lover could have fled after leaving Orgrimmar, but Windrunner Spire stood out as the best bet. Jaina’s instincts proved true, as she soon came upon the person she was looking for.

Jaina pushed open the bedroom door.

“I thought I might find you here,” Jaina said.

The former Warchief was already facing the door when Jaina walked in. It was near impossible to sneak up on a hunter, especially one of her prowess. The fact she stayed to let Jaina speak instead of fleeing again was a good sign. Or so Jaina hoped.

Candles lit the room well enough for Jaina to see Gillvanas clearly. Many times Jaina’s eyes had been blessed with the sight of her lover. Never did it fail to steal her breath.

Though an adult, the murloc was not much bigger than a bucket. Gillvanas only reached Jaina’s knees. Her hands and feet were web-finned and damp. Gills slit the sides of her neck, covered now by her mail gorget. The rest of her armor, from strapped gauntlets to feathered pauldrons, was crafted by the best smiths to fit her tiny size. She cut an imposing figure.

Ear-fins pricked through the hood of her cloak. Under the dark shadow of that hood, bulging red fish eyes burned with the damnation that seared her fallen soul. 

Her face was noseless and round-stretched, her death-grayed skin slimy and slick. Even in death, murlocs secreted moisture. Jaina knew all too well what it felt like to drag her tongue along that slimy flesh and taste that moisture.

The murloc’s beauty was spellbinding. Jaina felt her throat go dry, and something farther down start to get wet.

Gillvanas stood still as a tombstone, waiting for Jaina to make the first move. Bulging fish eyes watched Jaina unblinking. Whatever dark thoughts swirled behind those eyes was a mystery even the most talented arcane scryer could not divine.

Jaina took a knee so she was closer to Gillvanas’s eye level. The mage unbuckled her own gauntlet, and with her bare hand reached for Gillvanas’s face.

Finally, some movement in that corpse. Gillvanas flinched as if she expected a strike. But all Jaina did was gently touch the cut over Gillvanas’s eye.

A fresh scar marred that slimy murloc skin.

Saurfang was gone, but the mark he left on Gillvanas would never fade. Jaina was there when it happened. Her king’s blade did this to Gillvanas.

_ Jaina and the other leaders watched as Saurfang prepared for his Mak’gora. The mighty orc bent to speak with Finduin, who barely reached his shins. The young king gurgled solemnly and held out Shalamayne. _

_ Saurfang took the blade with reverence. Crafted for a murloc, in the hands of an orc it was the size of a toothpick. A shiny golden toothpick that gleamed with the Light itself. _

_ “Walk with me the rest of the way,” Saurfang said to Finduin. _

_ The old soldier tread onward to his fate while Horde and Alliance looked on. Tense air hung hot and silent save for desolate gusts of wind over Durotar’s rocks and the slap-fwap-slap of Finduin’s webbed feet as he followed Saurfang. _

Jaina would never forget what happened outside Orgrimmar that day. History books would say the Fourth War came to a thrilling conclusion. For Jaina, there was nothing thrilling about marching against your own lover.

_ Orgrimmar’s gate yawned open like the jaws of a ravenous beast eager for fresh meat. Two figures emerged. A Forsaken flagbearer, and... her. The reason everyone was gathered here outside Orgrimmar. _

_ Gillvanas wet-walked out the gate and strutted to meet Saurfang. Such a tiny creature, so enormous in her power over the living and the dead alike. Death itself seemed to ride on those round, fishy shoulders. Her skull-embossed pauldrons clinked with each step like the rattle of a prisoner’s manacles, and her dark hooded cloak made Gillvanas seem a floating specter. A floating fish specter. _

_ From her quite short vantage point, Gillvanas looked up at the orc. The twist of her slack-wide, lipless mouth conveyed equal parts displeasure and disdain. _

Jaina touched that mouth now. She stroked a thumb over the lipless opening. Gillvanas’s mouth parted slightly under Jaina’s touch, and the tip of a wet froggy tongue teased Jaina’s thumbtip.

“Well.” Jaina made her tone airy for distraction. To distract herself more than Gillvanas, in truth. “You do look quite dashing with a scar.”

Saurfang managing to land a blow was a stroke of fortune. Few could stand against the might of the undead murloc and hope to wound her. Saurfang’s fate was inevitable. He knew that, and went to his death as a warrior. Some found it honorable, some believed he took the easy way out rather than atone for his crimes. Regardless, the faction war was halted for now, and the Horde would soon choose a new Warchief. N’Zoth and other dangers loomed, and Azeroth herself still bled.

But that was not why Jaina came here.

_Saurfang lay dead at Gillvanas’s feet-fins._ _A proud warrior, a veteran of many wars, who had struck down brave paladins, terrifying Qiraji, relentless undead, and massive demons, was now completely obliterated by a murloc._

_ Gillvanas gazed at the orc’s corpse in contempt. Then she turned that contempt on the rest of the Horde rebels gathered outside the gate, and on the Alliance, and even on her own followers watching from the ramparts. _

_ Gillvanas’s parting speech stung like a hot brand on bare flesh. _

_ “Mrrgh urggl. Mrrag grrekk mm! Brrggh rammnuu. Mrrkl.” _

_ The words were unintelligible, but the meaning was clear. The Horde, the Alliance, all the living... it was nothing to Gillvanas. _

Jaina took her hand back from Gillvanas’s slimy face. Those bulging red eyes tightened in disappointment at the loss of contact. For all Gillvanas disdained the living and their sentiments, she still took pleasure in touch.

Jaina wrapped her arms around herself in misery.

“How could you say those things, Gillvanas? Your people... me... do we really mean nothing to you?”

Gillvanas did not answer. So many times in the past she gurgled declarations of love into Jaina’s ear, but now she stayed silent. So cruelly silent.

The murloc coiled Jaina’s braid around her hand-fin and used it to tug Jaina’s head down. That lipless fish-mouth caressed Jaina’s ear, whispering hotly into it.

“Mrrgl. Rrr-ghuummm.”

It was a low purr, intense in its seduction and raw in its dominance.

“Th-- that’s not true, Gillvanas. I am not still hopelessly attracted to you, no matter what you say.”

Another purr, followed by a wet-throated chuckle. Jaina felt a thrill course down her spine.

Jaina could not keep her eyes off Gillvanas. The undead murloc was so... so... Dark. Unnatural. Dangerous.

Arousing.

“Damn you. Even after everything, I... I still want you. Oh, Gillvanas! Claim me!”

Their lips met in passion. Well, Jaina’s lips. Gillvanas did not have lips, only a lipless hinge-jaw that flapped open and shut. But by the Tidemother, did it flap!

Gillvanas’s fishy mouth kissed Jaina to the heights of pleasure. Oh but there were further heights to be explored, once that mouth got to work on the rest of Jaina’s body.

Jaina lost herself in their shared passion, a twig swept away by a whirlpool. The torrent of Gillvanas’s moist undead lust fogged up a blur in Jaina’s brain, dulling her rationality.

Jaina should stop this. She should cast Gillvanas away, or take Gillvanas back to Stormwind to face justice for her crimes. She should do all that, but...

_ One last time_, Jaina thought.

One last night of lovemaking. What the future held for them, their factions, even Azeroth itself, was uncertain. But this here, this now, this was certain. Jaina and Gillvanas’s love had crossed death, war, heartbreak, and species-lines. They always found their way back to each other.

Jaina scooped up Gillvanas in her arms and carried the murloc to the bed.

Web-finned hands made quick work of Jaina’s clothes, plucking them off and flinging them away like unwrapping seaweed off a tasty clam. Jaina responded in kind, unstrapping all that armor off Gillvanas in a flurry. Being about a quarter of Jaina’s size, Gillvanas was much faster to undress. Last to come off were Jaina’s boots. Jaina helped unlace them. Webbed fingers were not so good with laces. Though those fins were quite talented on other parts... The thought made Jaina quiver in anticipation.

Gillvanas sat back on her flat, damp rear to admire the sight of the naked woman stretched out in the bed. Candlelight licked over Jaina’s skin in hollow imitation of what Gillvanas wanted to do to her.

“Mmmhhghgg, llgg, mmgg rrggllel.”

Jaina blew out a huff that stirred a loose strand of white hair from her face.

“Yes, yes, you make that joke every time. How you’re the murloc but I’m the one who’s wet.”

Gillvanas’s hand-fin caressed Jaina’s lips, tracing their outline. That fin stroked down to Jaina’s throat, her chest, her abdomen, lower and lower, until it came to rest at the parting of her legs. Jaina canted her hips eagerly and spread her thighs to give the murloc more room. Shyness was long since gone, obliterated by the burning desire to have Gillvanas inside her as soon as possible.

The fin parted Jaina’s folds, equal parts commanding and gentle. It found the pearl of her clit and began a slow massage. Jaina’s head fell back on the pillow, and she loosed a moan.

Jaina fought to keep her eyes open. As much as she wanted to let them slide shut at the exquisite pleasure, she also wanted to see Gillvanas. An unparalleled beauty in life, undeath had not diminished it at all. Now the murloc’s beauty was enhanced by a dark vigor.

Gillvanas smelled as she always did, a heady blend of grave moss and stagnant water. Like an old barrel forgotten on the Boralus docks, the ones packed with week-old catch no one wanted to buy. But Jaina wanted it. She wanted Gillvanas, in all that dead fishy glory.

The fin teasing her clit withdrew. Jaina’s entire body jolted like a beast leash-yanked to a halt.

“Wh-- why did you stop?”

“Mrrgh.”

Bulging fish eyes, lidded with sultry indulgence, captured Jaina’s gaze. Jaina knew exactly what Gillvanas wanted.

“Don’t... don’t make me beg. Please, Gillvanas.”

Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras, Archmage of the Kirin Tor, Lady of Theramore... Jaina held many titles in her life. At the end of the day, all her power and prestige always came undone at the fins of this one murloc. Gillvanas knew precisely which threads to tug to completely unravel Jaina into a begging, sweating mess.

Gillvanas remained unmoved. Waiting. Demanding. Jaina only got wetter the longer the denial lasted, until finally the words burst from her lips.

“All right, Gillvanas. I admit it! I love you. I ache for your slimy touch. Please, make me yours!”

Gillvanas obliged. With her small figure, the murloc scuttled down to Jaina’s lower half and set to work parting Jaina’s folds with her tongue.

Jaina stroked the back of the murloc’s head encouragingly, until the pleasure grew too great for Jaina to coordinate her hands anymore. A heavy throb that matched her racing pulse soon grew in Jaina, hammering to the rhythm of Gillvanas’s tongue-strokes. Her tongue lathed up and down, swirling, teasing, then stroking full force.

That long, frog-like murloc tongue was divine and unholy all at once, with its capability to stir sensations in Jaina she never knew were possible before she met Gillvanas.

Jaina moaned wantonly. The moans were answered by satisfied gurgles from Gillvanas, though they came out muffled with her face buried in Jaina. Thankfully, undead did not need to breathe.

Gillvanas’s mouth pulled away. Though sorrowful to let it go, Jaina reassured herself with the knowledge of what was to come next.

Gillvanas’s hand-fin replaced where her tongue had been moments prior. Jaina’s folds were swollen and wet with thick arousal. There was no resistance as Gillvanas’s fin slid inside, deliciously deep, finally giving Jaina what they both craved.

Gillvanas watched Jaina’s face carefully for any sign of discomfort. She went slow at first, giving Jaina time to adjust to the damp girth. Jaina clenched instinctively around the fin. Not in pain, in longing. Longing for that closeness, that connection, that only their two souls could understand.

Jaina clutched the sheets in her fist while her other hand flailed for something to hold. Gillvanas soon provided it, giving Jaina her free hand-fin to hold while the other fin worked vigorously. The webbing prevented them from being able to lace their fingers together, so instead Jaina held the fin tight.

Gillvanas shifted without breaking rhythm. She rolled her body over Jaina’s leg so the murloc was straddling Jaina’s thigh while still keeping her hand-fin attentive.

Gillvanas thrust against Jaina with slow, lazy strokes. Jaina was helpless against the murloc’s casual dominance. Not that Jaina wanted to resist.

Casual strokes soon gave way to intense thrusts. Though Gillvanas enjoyed drawing out their pleasure, even she could not resist the draw of bringing Jaina to peak as soon as possible.

Everything else faded. For Jaina, reality was nothing but the wet slap of Gillvanas’s thrusts and the delicious friction as the murloc ground herself on Jaina’s thigh. Satisfaction spread from Jaina’s belly to her fingertips at the knowledge she was giving Gillvanas such enjoyment. As much as Jaina adored being pleasured by Gillvanas, it was moments like this when they could share pleasure, that Jaina truly loved.

Sweat coated Jaina’s bare skin, glistening in the candlelight. Gillvanas did not sweat, but in the heat of their lovemaking her gray skin produced a thicker sheen of slime than usual. Her thrusting motions smeared that slime all over Jaina, marking the human as hers. With any other murloc, Jaina would have recoiled in disgust. With Gillvanas, it just felt... right.

_ Is this real, Gillvanas? Do you truly love me? _

Jaina could not ask aloud. After today’s earlier events, she was afraid of the answer.

Jaina let pleasure wash doubt from her mind. She gave herself fully to Gillvanas, accepting whatever was to come, just as Gillvanas accepted all of her.

The strokes came faster and faster. Gillvanas’s fin was all a-flurry, pumping as much pleasure into Jaina as possible. Gillvanas ground herself as heavily as her amphibious little body would allow. Before long, her gurgles of pleasure chased Jaina’s growing moans.

“Oh, Gillvanas! Yes! I’m --”

“Mrrgll!”

Jaina's climax was an inexorable magnificence, utterly devastating yet completely welcome. Her lungs clenched in her chest, forcing out a scream of sublime ecstasy.

She was not alone in her climax. Gillvanas shuddered against Jaina, and Jaina felt a wet slickness not her own coating her thigh.

They both lost track of time, so drowned in their love were they, but eventually their shared climax circled back down like a bird coming home to roost, allowing the two women some respite.

Even without lovemaking, just lying in each other’s arms was joy enough. The mere companionship of this murloc made Jaina’s heart sing.

That was hardly the last of it. Oh no, Gillvanas never let Jaina rest without at least three or four climaxes. Undead stamina was a wonderful thing. Jaina limply canted her hips again and let her lover do as she pleased.

Hours later, soaked in the aftermath, Jaina and Gillvanas lay together in bed.

Jaina still quivered worse than a loose sail shaking in a tradewind. Her naked body stuck to the sheets, her chest heaving as she panted, her mind trying to stitch back together the shreds of her pleasure-burst brain.

Gillvanas, lying somewhere around Jaina’s midsection, contented herself with licking the sweat and slime-smear off Jaina’s abdomen. That froggy tongue left more mess than it cleaned, and by the end of the tongue-lashing Jaina was as filthy as she had been before.

“Come up here, you.”

Jaina cuddled Gillvanas in her arms. The murloc fit snugly in the human’s embrace. They kissed lazily for a while, savoring each other in the afterglow with slow delight as the candles gradually burned down.

Exhausted from multiple climaxes, Jaina finally collapsed into sleep. Dreams chased her down like tides chased down a ship, eventually sunken into slumber. The last she heard was a quiet gurgle, accompanied by a moist hand tenderly stroking Jaina’s face.

* * *

Jaina woke some time later.

Sunlight, or rather the weak glow that passed for sunlight in the Ghostlands, filled the bedchamber.

She was alone.

“Gone again,” Jaina murmured. “Do you want me to follow you once more, or do you want to be left alone this time?”

Gillvanas usually left Jaina a parting gift after their secret trysts. Something small to soothe the longing during the weeks or months before they could lie in each other’s arms again. This time, Gillvanas did not bother with a gift. Jaina scrubbed at her eyes and tried to tell herself it did not matter. Perhaps it was for the best.

“I still don’t have an answer to the question I came here for. Did you mean it when you said I am nothing to you? Is all our love a lie?”

Jaina climbed out of bed and dressed herself. She tugged her clothes on sadly, thinking of the passionate fins that yanked them off her last night, wondering if she would ever feel those fins on her body again.

Jaina’s nose crinkled. Something smelled... fishy. How, when Gillvanas was already gone? Were there other murlocs here?

She looked around the room. No one in sight. So where was that scent coming from?

Jaina followed her nose to a corner of the bedroom. She gasped at what she found. Gillvanas left her a gift after all.

In one safe little corner, tucked in a carefully piled bed of wet weeds, was a cluster of tiny gray globules.

“Her eggs. _Our _eggs.”

Murloc eggs were fragile. Indeed, without shells they seemed more like bubbles than eggs. But inside each of those bubbles swam a tiny dark dot. A speck that would someday grow to a person.

“Oh, Gillvanas... They’re beautiful.”

Jaina’s heart hammered in her chest like a triumphant pounding of celebration drums. At last, she had the answer to her question.

Her eyes misted with tears again, and this time she did not try to scrub them away. She let them fall freely down her cheeks, and the salty drops kissed her lips into a smile.

That Gillvanas had laid these eggs before leaving, the product of their sweaty, slimy, fishy intercourse, was a gift more precious than any gold or enchanted weapon. How were these eggs possible, with the species divide, hell with the undeath divide? Jaina did not know, but she did not need to. The loving union of their two souls could defeat any challenge life or nature threw at them.

The lovers may find their way back to each other someday, or they may never see each other again. More than a gift, more than a promise, these eggs were a solid gesture in the face of an uncertain future.

Through the joy, fingers of doubt poked at Jaina. Would Jaina be a good mother for these precious little miracles? Her past was not as dark as Gillvanas’s, but Jaina still had blood on her hands and sins to atone for. Could she do this? Could she raise these children, alone if need be?

Jaina firmed with determination. All doubt vanished, beaten away by the strength of her love for Gillvanas.

“I can do this. For her, for them, for us. For our _ family_. Whatever else happens, our love will endure.”

Jaina caressed the wet cluster of eggs. She hugged as tight as she could while being careful not to pop any eggs with her gauntlet.

A sizable cluster. There must be dozens of eggs here! A measure of Gillvanas’s potency, or perhaps Jaina’s. Either way, it made Jaina swell with pride.

Katherine would be delighted. She always wanted grandchildren.

What would those grandchildren look like? Jaina met half-breeds before. Rexxar. Vereesa’s boys. Even Kalec took the form of a human-elf mix. However, she never met a human-murloc mix. Would Jaina and Gillvanas’s children be more human than murloc? Would they even be alive, or undead? Was it possible to be _ partially _ undead?

Whatever they were or would become, Jaina would love them. Tiny little pieces of her Gillvanas, physical embodiments of a love that crossed all boundaries. Jaina would cherish each and every bizarre misshapen child until her years came to an end and her body was given back to the tides.

Jaina conjured a cloud of moisture. Like a wet fluffy pillow for the eggs to incubate in. With the cloud-padded eggs floating safely by her side, Jaina opened a portal back to Boralus.

“Come, children, let’s go home. I can’t wait to introduce my mother to the future Lord Admurloc.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I’m still working on my other, more serious fic, I just had to get this unholy joke-idea exorcised from my brain. Even now the evil seed of what I have done germinates within me.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this story. Be kind to me, for God will not.


End file.
